Page 71 of The Firebrand
“Doable. If I trace the activity on Stefan and Gunner’s ID numbers, it’s possible I’ll find a pattern or something. Then I can create an algorithm to lead us to other duplicates out there.”
“Our Firebrand big boss, Cadmon, needs to pass on this intel to the Alliance’s board of directors. They can monitor the jumper factory on Earth to see if the knock-offs are coming from them.” Kole grabbed his phone.
“Are we sharing info with Boden and his Ministry of Compliance?” asked Chay.
Kole grinned. One side of his mouth curled higher than the other. “Only what we have to. Just because they manage production doesn’t mean we trust the shit-for-brains director.”
“I’m going home to clean up, heal, and check on Braelyn. Let me know what you uncover.” Rein pounded out of Kole’s office with Chay on his boot heels.
A thoughtful Bounty tossed him another plastic blood bag, which he popped a fang into and guzzled. She’d already given him two on his way into the meet. “Thanks.”
“So, tell me how it is with the shapelysapiens,” Chay probed.
“Nothing’s going on. Why do I have to keep explaining that to everyone?” Rein pressed a palm to his chest. What had been a bloody gouge was just an angry scar, already disappearing along with his other injuries. It still hurt like a sonofabitch.
“Come on. She’s hot. Curves in all the right places. Kissable lips. Wait, you’ve tried those. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about tapping the human.”
“You talk too much, Chay.”
“But you don’t talk enough.” He slapped a hand on Rein’s shoulder. “See ya. And thanks for the save.”
Rein deserved an award for being a neutered acolyte of Gahya the Genitrix. Instead of stripping off Braelyn’s clothes and fucking her against the wall, he meditated. Instead of burying his fangs in the sweet human’s long neck, he swallowed bagged blood. A growl crawled out of his chest as his control snaked around his body like a python. He readied to face the female.
ChapterFifteen
Upstate New York
After days of being jiggled and jimmied with a rusty nail, the hinges on the old, weathered cellar door popped loose. Jace de Vries grunted as she pushed against the wood with a quivering arm and stumbled out. She ran for her life. Barefooted, clothes ragged, the escaped prisoner sprinted down the country road, ignoring the pain of the gravel cutting her soles. She glanced over her shoulder, but the light was too dim to see much more than an outline of the house with its surrounding trees. Her legs shook from being bound. Too little water and less food had drained her energy.
Jace brushed aside a strand of long, strawberry-blonde hair matted with dirt. When she slipped on a rock, she scraped her knee. Leveraging herself off the ground with chafed hands, she wobbled to an upright position and resumed fleeing. Tears streaked her face as she gulped down sobs. Only terror drove her forward. That, and fear of the inhuman monster who had jailed her for two weeks.
Her pace was stuttered but determined. Her legs noodled but held her vertical. Her will was battered but strong. She just had to keep going. Another meter. Then another. That’s how she had won races. A single meter at a time.
Lights from a car on the road flickered as it traveled toward her. Instead of seeking aid, Jace dashed to the side, hiding in the bushes.
Oh, God. My captor is returning.
But the vehicle passed, and in her exhaustion, Jace considered catching a few winks.
No.
Though tired, weak, and hungry, she forced herself up, putting her left foot in front of the right. Jace was not a loser. She still held the New York State record for high school female athletes in the 3k run.
She trudged away from the road. Her kidnapper would look for her there when he realized she had escaped. In the pale light of the cloud-covered moon, she saw a field. Jace lurched toward the pasture as tires crunched gravel.
Panicked, she stumbled on uneven earth, falling onto her knees. She caught the sound of two car doors slamming. When footsteps pounded after her, she hoisted herself up. Suppressing her pain, vanquishing her fear, she gathered what little energy she had to charge forward, careful not to slip on her bloodied feet. But the dark shadows along with the rough terrain beat her. Pitching to the ground, she crawled on her forearms, onward but unable to rise again.
Laughter carried across the field, not the pleasant kind. Rather, the deep, bone-chilling variety. As her desperation increased, Jace’s sobs grew louder. Through her agony, she recognized this was a race she wouldn’t win. Her muscles seized, refusing to carry her any farther. Then a boot landed on her back, flattening her to the ground. A man rolled her over and straddled her thighs. Though tears streamed down her face, she lifted her chin to shoot a defiant look at him.
He wasn’t the same monster who had held her prisoner in that dank, dark cellar. This man leered at her through cold, blood-red eyes. The tiny bits of silver in them glinted in the moonlight. Despite a smile, his lips were cruel, pitiless.
****
“Pretty.” Silas brushed a lock of hair behind the female’s ear. He spoke to the coyote shifter beside him. “Nice tits.” He cupped a breast, massaging it hard enough that she winced.
With piercing screams, the human threw her shoulders from side to side to avoid his touch. He straddled her. “Where did you find this one, Kur?” Through the red haze of his bludfrenzy, he fixed on the pulse throbbing in the neck of the helpless female.
“Outside a winery in New Paltz, NY, where she worked. I crossed the portal with her a few weeks ago, but nobody met me. I brought her back here.”
